#popularpeopleproblems

A few weeks ago my Mom met a lady through a mutual friend (Beverly) who has a son who lives in LA. As they chatted about their adult children's exciting California lives they realized their adult children (i.e. Philip and I) had a bit in common.

We both are in "green" careers. He's an architect focusing on green design and I am a sustainability manager.
We both live in So-Cal. He's in LA, while I'm in Newport.
We both like the Wildcats and making new friends.

That is basically all it takes apparently to be MFEO (Made For Each Other).
Sleepless in Seattle fans, that was for you.

When my Mom got home she called and told me about meeting Philip's mother.
"Sure! Give him my phone number." I said. "Worst case scenario I'll make a good industry contact or have an amazing blog post. Best case scenario I'll be barefoot and pregnant in no time."
"Uh. Yeah. Sure. Anyway, I'll tell Bev." said Mom, who has taken to largely ignoring my sarcasm in hopes that I will take up a more lady-like habit.
Like needlepoint. Or soft-spokenness.

I didn't think much more about Philip until my mom texted me a little more information about him.

Philip Durrante (I'm not sure about the spelling)
Eco-Architecture Designs
421 E. Pasa Robles Rd.
Los Angeles CA

An address and no cell number or email? Does she think I'll just swing by?
 I'll Google him and at least find out if he is cute!
But Google turned up zilch!
I didn't even know it was possible to leave no imprint on the interwebs! But there was nothing coming up for a Philip Durrante/Durrent/Durant/etc... that worked for any sort of architectural firm in LA, let alone Eco-Architecture. I guess she must really be off on the spelling.
Oh, well! 

A week later Momma Crigger forwarded an email she had received from Philip's mother. The gist of it was that I seemed amazing (she's not wrong there) and that Philip would be happy to meet me and know someone from Kentucky in the big city. She also mentioned having the two of us meet up over Christmas while we are both home. And that is when it started to feel a little bit like I was living in a country where the parents select the bride for the groom...

Thank goodness Charles and Kathy don't even attempt to voice an opinion on my love life. They have only ever liked one boy I brought "home". And I am pretty sure they are hoping I'll marry him, move back to Kentucky, and bring my 10 kids home for the holidays so that bunk room they have will get some use.

And then I saw Philip's real last name.
Smith.
Not Durrante, or whatever my mom thought it was.

He was Phil Smith! Phil Smith! PhilSmith!
I say this because when I was introduced to him he (and everyone else) said it like it was one word.

Obviously, I already know him.
And as such, if I were interested in him, I probably would have already gone out with him.
He not only comes to the UK game watch parties, but he is good friends with Sean.
The guy from the Kentucky alumni group who I dated VERY casually for awhile, and keeps calling me and wanting to come see me in Orange County and take me on dates.

I'm significantly less interested in that occurring.

But anyway, Phil is awesome, and I really like hanging out with him. But he isn't really my type, and even if he was, he and I could never go out because of Sean.

It's a small world after all. It's a small world after all. It's a small, small, world.

And tough being so popular and desirable! 

One is one too many...

And one more is never enough.

After I ran into Zach at the concert and we had a nice (and quite sweaty, on my part) kiss in the parking lot, he headed to Kentucky with strict orders to meet my mother and bring me back some Moonshine.  After an early morning meet-and-greet with Kathy, some football tailgating, and what I can only assume was a wild weekend of partying like a college kid given the drunk texts I was receiving inquiring about pizza parlors/late night Lexington food open past 2:00am, he returned to California moonshine in tow.

Perfect.
Or not so much. I was mostly over this guy, until he called me and offered to bring me some moonshine back from Kentucky. Now I was back in full blown Likeville.

The fact that he was carrying my contraband meant I had to see him. At least for a few minutes. After I all he had my moonshine. And if he could see me for a few minutes maybe we could parlay that into a drink, dinner, a trip to the dog park, or something.

Basically anything, because I was desperate for some attention.

We exchanged a few texts, but our usual problem got in the way. 

When I am free, he is tied up. When he is free I can’t shake loose of a prior commitment.

Frustration station. All aboard!

Well, at least I was getting on board. Why is it soooooo hard for me to see this guy?

From the current disappear-reappear pattern Zach was sticking to, I doubted he was all that frustrated. 
And if he was, at least had moonshine to quell his frustration! 

But on Friday morning things started to look up when I got the following text.

“What are you doing tonight?”

As usual, when I get texts of this nature at work I run to Everett shrieking "What do I do? What do I say? Help me not mess this up!!" 

I am, at times, overly concerned about not messing things up in the romance department. 

Taking Everett’s advice to be busy (i.e. just hanging out with some friends), but not so busy that I couldn't change my plans and hang out with him instead (i.e. going to a Rolling Stones concert). 

I replied with, “Just hanging out with Everett and some people. Nothing major. Why what are you doing?”
"Oh. Nevermind. Going to a baseball game."
Nevermind? Just ask me to come to the game with you instead you big dummy! Fine I'll fish for an invite, even though I HATE doing that.
"Ooooo jealous! I feel like I should go to more baseball games. Its so close and cheap!"
"Sorry for telling you last minute."
Well you never really told me... Or invited me. BUT... Let's see if I can make this happen.
"Let me see if it will break Ev's heart if I bail on him. If not, I'll come."

Obviously, it wasn't going to break Ev's heart if I ditched him and our fake plans, but I waited 20 minutes and then texted Zach back.
"Did you already get tickets? Everett's trying to make me watch Snow White and Huntsman and baseball sounds way better."
"I did, but I can get another one. We are going to tailgate before the game."
"Great. See you in the parking lot."

I arrived at the game just as the tailgating extravaganza was ending. I'd been running late coming from work so I took a shot of bourbon and we (Zach, his friend Mitch and a girl who they know from kickball who I really liked and now can't remember her name...) all walked into the game. Grabbing beers and then finding our seats we settled in for Angles versus the White Sox action. 

Zach and I chatted about his trip to Kentucky and he called my Momma "a charm", which is pretty accurate description. And we talked some baseball smack, which is pretty interesting since I know next to nothing about baseball and even less about the Angels, except that Mike Trout is a big deal and is the reason that people keep wearing foam fish hats to games. 

The Angels won (*yeah* Root! Root! Root for the home team! and all that jazz), but Zach was bummed that his White Sox lost. I maintained that they should have played better, whatever that means for baseball...

Post baseball we headed back to Newport to go to the Goathill Tavern. It is a strange place with peanuts on the floor, a 100 beers on tap, and an impressive selection of Brittney Spears, Lady Gaga, and Beyonce that people dance to under very bright lighting. It's like a Logan's Roadhouse with club music and a massively better beer selection.

Grabbing a pitcher of beer for everyone else and a bourbon and diet coke for me we chatted, laughed, danced and generally had too much fun. At one point I did Willow Smith's "Whip My Hair" and as I danced on peanuts shells. At least I think they were peanut shells. I might also have sang "Poker Face" complete with my own choreographed dance.

And by "might", I mean I totally did.

Who doesn't think that sounds fun? 

The next day I talked to Zach and he mentioned if I was interested in watching some football he would be at Rudy's in Newport Beach for the Bear's game at 10:00. I was non-committal, but told him I would probably come down and watch my Steelers play at 1:00.

On Sunday, Allison, who I had dragged along with me, and I arrived at Rudy's to find Zach and his friends a very subdued cheering section. The Bears were behind. 

"My phone died. Did you text me?" Zach asked.
"Yeah. Just to tell you I was on my way. Nothing major."
"Oh, sorry."
"No biggie."

Alexis and I ordered beers and settled in to watch the last of the Bears (who managed to pull out a W just in the nick of time) and wait for my Steelers to come on.

Zach and I chatted, but somehow I ended up talking to his friend Mitch, and the random girl sitting beside me more than him. 

Not a good sign.

Then the worst thing happened. 
Well, maybe not the worst. But it certainly wasn't good.
A guy at the table behind us struck up a conversation with me about the Steelers. 

I know I should have kept it short. But I have NO Steeler-fan friends out here. So when I meet another Steelers fan I can't help but gab. We became like two girls in a beauty parlor talking about my love of James Harrison, how Mendenhal needs to get better, and the awesomeness that is Heath Miller.

In my defense, it wasn't like Zach was talking my ear off or anything. Eventually, I extracted myself from the Steelers chatter and turned back to my table. 

But Zach still wasn't really talking to me. 
I didn't get it then. I don't get it now. 
Don't invite me to hang out and then not talk to me! 

He stayed until half time of the Steelers' game and then he and Mitch left to go down to another bar to see a friend of Mitch's.

"Call me or text me if you are going to come down. I'll charge my phone during the car ride down."
"OK. I will. But I kinda doubt we'll come. I'm going to watch the rest of the game and then probably head on out. I have a test to study for."
"Alright. We'll talk soon, then."

And then we didn't.
I haven't heard from him in quite some time and fully don't ever expect to. 
Though I am waiting for when we bump into each other. And it will happen. We run in too many of the same circles. And it will be awkward. 

Let's just hope I look awesome. And that I am with a hot millionaire!




** Just to keep everyone straight, this all occurred before the Bachelor Auction...